


These Wounds Won't Heal With Time

by mikaceous



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Brightheart and Ivypool are literary parallels and if no one else will write about it then I will, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Grandmothers, Heart-to-Heart, Late Night Conversations, Not Romance, Reminiscing, grandmother and granddaughter - Freeform, takes place a few moons after Dovewing's Silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaceous/pseuds/mikaceous
Summary: Ivypool has too many physical reminders of memories she'd rather not think about. Brightheart knows how she feels.





	These Wounds Won't Heal With Time

 

“Ivypool?” 

The silver-and-white tabby she-cat twitched her ears towards the sound. She was hiding in the thickest bramble bush in ThunderClan territory, with thorns like claws piercing in every direction. It raked her fur as she had crawled inside it, but at least no one else could come in to drag her back out. 

“Ivypool, are you in there?”

Ivypool rolled her eyes and sighed. This wasn’t the first time her grandmother had tailed after her when she had escaped into the forest after the patrols were done, searching for some peace and quiet, and to avoid all of the malicious stares and whispered comments. Most of it wasn’t directed at her, but that just made her feel all the more guilty, like maybe it  _ should _ be. 

She had managed to block out some of it by distracting herself with the other ex-Dark Forest trainees, but Blossomfall had practically jumped Thornclaw in the clearing the other day, acting so gushingly romantic towards her mate (since when were they  _ mates _ ?) that she couldn’t handle it. Even her own father had retreated to Whitewing’s side, and though Ivypool loved her parents as fiercely as any other cat, she could only take so much smothering from her mother, well-meant or not, before she wanted to claw the remains of her ears off. 

She should have had Dovewing. She should have. You would think her sister would be here for her in her hour of need. And she was, in her own way, but she had her own issues to deal with, and right now Ivypool did not need to listen to her sister complain about how awful her life is, now that she couldn’t hear or see anything. 

Right now, she just wanted to be alone. 

“Don’t mind me. I’ll just make myself comfortable, then.” Brightheart’s voice carried from outside the bramble thicket. Ivypool barely made her out; her body mostly blocked by branches, and what ginger fur she could see blended into the forest behind her. “You can’t hide in there forever, you know.”

Normally, Ivypool ignored her, but she was getting tired of getting chased down by a one-eyed cat who was practically an elder and way too limber for her age. “What do you want?” she snapped. 

“Just to talk,” Brightheart mewed, like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

Yeah, for her, maybe. “I don’t want to talk.” 

“Then you don’t have to. You can listen.”

_ What if I don’t want to? _ thought Ivypool crossly, but it was easier to listen than to run away again, so she said nothing, just curled her tail tighter around herself, the tip ticking back and forth in agitation. 

For a long moment, Brightheart didn’t speak. When she finally did, her voice was heavy. “I know what it’s like to have every cat secretly cast glances in your direction when they think you won’t notice, and how heartbreaking it feels when you see a Queen herding her kits away from you so they don’t squeal in terror. I know what it’s like to feel different.” 

“Oh,  _ you _ know what it’s like to be different?” Ivypool growled. That’s funny. No, it’s funnier than funny. That’s  _ rich _ . She clawed her way towards her kin, worming her way underneath the bramble thorns so she can tell Brightheart what she  _ really _ thinks. “You know what it’s like to be ugly? To be shorned? To be… different…” 

All of the retorts and insults that had been bursting out of Ivypool’s heart just heartbeats ago instantly simmered away to nothing when she made her way out of the brambles and came face to face with Brightheart. Brightheart, who was scarred and disfigured, just like her. Who had the same shredded ears, the same claw marks running down her face and neck that fur will never grow over again. 

Brightheart still bore the scars from her apprenticeship, when her and her friend Swiftpaw had tried to track down the dogs plaguing their territory back in the old forest and instead got massacred and ripped to shreds by them. 

Hawkfrost tore Ivypool up and then left her to bleed out. Those aren’t the kinds of wounds that disappear easily. She’ll bear these scars, and the memories that come with them, for the rest of her life.

Brightheart dipped her head towards Ivypool, her one eye shining mistily, as if she was about to cry. “I do understand what it’s like to be different, believe it or not.”

Ivypool stared. Too many questions flooded her mind and it was hard to decide where to start. “But you’re a loved and trusted member of ThunderClan! A senior warrior! All of the warriors of all of the Clans respect you!  _ You _ never betrayed your Clan. No one ever calls you a traitor when they think you’re just outside of earshot.”

“True.” Brightheart pressed her muzzle into Ivypool’s forehead and licked her between the eyes. No one besides Dovewing had gotten this close to Ivypool in what feels like moons. She shivered. 

“You have done many things that I have never, or could never, do. You may have betrayed your Clan… but you also helped to save it. Besides,” Brightheart added, pulling back to lick her chest self-consciously, “Do you think you’re the only one who kits are both frightened and morbidly curious of?”

Brightheart’s words warmed Ivypool in a way that her calming touch couldn’t. She dipped her head. “I… I’d never considered it that way.” 

Brightheart purred. “Well, they do say that wisdom only grows with age.” 

The younger cat wanted to purr as well, but something stopped her, and she looked down at her paws. 

“What is it?” Brightheart asked, touching Ivypool’s ear with her nose. “You can talk to me, you know. That’s what kin is for.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Ivypool looked at everything that wasn’t the ginger-and-white cat next to her.

“Try me. I understand more than you might think.”

Ivypool whipped her tail back and forth. “Well, you have Cloudtail. He helped you recuperate when you were healing, and worked with you to develop a special fighting style -- I remember the stories Mousefur told me about you from when I was a kit. But I don’t have anyone! I’m all alone.” She hung her head and tucked her tail around her, like if she pretended to hug herself it would make all of her problems go away. 

“Oh, Ivypool,” Brightheart murmured. Ivypool had expected her to laugh, but instead her kin only wrapped her tail around her in a comforting manner. “Surrounded by Clanmates and still all by yourself. I’m sorry that you feel so alone.”

“Yeah. And it’s not like I can find a mate who loves me like Cloudtail loves you to make me feel better. Everyone here just looks at me like I’m a freak.” Ivypool growled and unsheathed her claws, digging them into the soft leaf litter beneath her paws.  _ Maybe I’m not cut out for Clan life. Maybe I should leave and become a loner. Purdy lived that way for years, and he was fine. I could do it, too. _

“You don’t need a mate.” Brightheart flicked Ivypool’s ear with her paw. Ivypool looked up at her and saw that her blue eyes glittered in amusement. “StarClan, no! If I came all the way out here just to tell you to find a mate, I would be a shameful excuse for a senior warrior and an even worse grandmother. Romance doesn’t fix  _ anything _ . Well, it fixes  _ some  _ things, but not everything. Not by a long shot. No, you know who helped me when I needed it?” 

Brightheart looked up overheard, and Ivypool followed her gaze and saw the stars winking down at them through the branches overhead. “StarClan?” she asked, confused. 

“No,” Brightheart purred. “My sister, Cinderpelt.”

“The medicine cat before Leafpool?” Ivypool mewed, sitting up straight and perking her ears forward. “I didn’t realize you were littermates!” 

Brightheart nodded. “We were never that close as kits. We were too competitive. Both of us were eager to be the best warriors the forest had ever seen! But then I got attacked by a dog,” she rubbed a paw over the scars running across her face, “and Cinderpelt got hit by a monster, and it looked like both of our dreams of ever being a warrior were crumbled to pieces. We bonded a lot then. Our paths split, then, and we didn’t have so much to be competitive over.” Brightheart purred at the memory. “Cloudtail helped me become a warrior, and Yellowfang helped Cinderpelt on her journey to becoming a medicine cat. But even though our paths were different, that couldn’t undo how close we had become. She was the first one I ran to whenever I had a problem. I supported her until her dying breath, and I know she did the same for me.” 

She sighed and shook her head, looking back at Ivypool. “I wish you too could have met,” she mewed softly. “Cinderpelt would have liked you. You’re both feisty and never know when to quit.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ivypool murmured. She touched Brightheart’s ear with her nose. “I didn’t realize.”

“Yes, well.” Brightheart took a deep breath, then seemed to collect herself. She blinked, and suddenly her bright blue eyes were full of sparkle and charm once more. “But this isn’t about me. This is about you. And you don’t need a mate to fix all of your problems. No one else can fix your problems for you, only you can. But when you need to talk, your kin will always be there for you. You have me. And you have Dovewing.” 

Ivypool curled her lip at the mention of her sister. “Dovewing has her own problems to deal with. She doesn’t need to deal with mine on top of everything else.”

“No?” Brightheart asked. “You don’t think that you can both help each other? She went through a disfigurement too, you know. Just not a visible one. Losing her powers has been hard for her. I can tell.” 

“You knew that she lost her powers?” Ivypool hadn’t realized it was public knowledge. Dovewing had told her, summarizing her trip to the moonpool where Yellowfang had told her, Jayfeather, and Lionblaze that their powers were gone, and how her ears now felt like they were constantly stuffed with moss. But she hadn’t realized that any other cat knew. She had heard the rumors circulating camp, of course, but Bramblestar had never said anything official. 

“Of course I did! I don’t need our Clan leader to tell me what any cat with a working eye can see for herself.” Brightheart bumps Ivypool good-naturedly with her shoulder. “You both went through a loss. You can either let your losses drive you apart, or pull you back together. And if you ask me, only one of those is truly an option. The other is unacceptable.”

“What if I feel like it  _ isn’t _ an option?”  _ What if I need Dovewing, but she isn’t there when I need her? _ is what Ivypool really meant, but she couldn’t say that out loud. Not without explaining what she knows about Tigerheart. Dovewing had sworn that they were done, and she wouldn’t sneak off to see him anymore, but Ivypool could never stop her paranoia from rearing its ugly head whenever Dovewing was late returning from patrols, or when she woke up in the middle of the night to find that Dovewing was gone, even if she had only left to make dirt.

“Yes, that does happen occasionally.” Brightheart nodded. “If nothing else, you can always go to the edge of the territory and yowl at StarClan.”

Ivypool’s eyes bugged out of her head. “ _ What _ ?”

Brightheart shrugged, her blue eye glittering. “I don’t know if they’re really listening to what a common warrior like myself is saying, but it helps to air it out in the open. I like to imagine that Cinderpelt is watching from StarClan, shaking her head and calling me a mousebrain.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ivypool wasn’t sure she would do that. It seemed so… undignified. 

“I have a good screaming spot. I’ll show you sometime, if you want.” Brightheart stood up and stretched, pushing her front legs out in front of her and opening her mouth in a gaping yawn. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for moons.” She started to pad away, then turned back to look at Ivypool. “Well? Are you coming?”

“Right!” Ivypool leapt to her paws and scrambled to follow her grandmother back in the direction of camp. “Thank you,” she mewed, as they approach the camp walls, but before they were in earshot of Brackenfur, who was guarding the entrance. “For everything.”

“What else are kin for, if we don’t help each other when we need it?” mewed Brightheart. 

Ivypool dipped her head in reverence. She followed her kin to the camp entrance and down the path into the warriors den. She forced herself not to duck her head and skirt past Brackenfur at the tunnel entrance, and she could be mistaken, but she could have sworn she saw him dip his head to her in friendly acknowledgement as she passed by, the same as he did to Brightheart. There were a few stragglers in the center of camp talking in low tones, finishing up their sharing tongues before heading to sleep. Ivypool padded through all of them and into the warriors’ den. As Brightheart picked her way through the cats towards Cloudtail, Ivypool easily picked out Dovewing’s soft gray fur on one side of the den. She crawled over to her and curled up next to her. 

“Hmm?” Dovewing lifted her head up when Ivypool approached and blinked sleepily at her. “Ivypool…?”

Ivypool brushed her cheek against her sister’s fur. “Sorry for missing sharing tongues tonight. I’ll be here tomorrow, I promise.”

“No more running away in the middle of the night?”

“No more running away,” Ivypool agreed. “For either of us.”

Curled up next to her sister, feeling the calming rise and fall of of Dovewing’s sides as she slipped back into sleep, Ivypool felt… not perfect, but better than she had in a long time. This is the first step towards healing and acceptance. She would never be beautiful, but she would be okay. 

And maybe being okay is beautiful, in its own way. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've always thought of Ivypool as a parallel in many ways to her grandma Brightheart, since they're both spotted-and-white tabbies, and both of them got pretty scratched up at pivotal moments in their lives. I know it's not common to depict Ivypool as looking super beat up, mostly just with some superficial scarring, but she was clawed up enough that Hawkfrost felt confident leaving her to bleed to death, and that coupled with her other scars from fighting in the Dark Forest can't make a pretty picture.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! I love my emo veteran child and her wonderful compassionate grandma!!


End file.
